The Once and Future Risen King
by ValiantGinger
Summary: Arthur has been dead for a very long time. Merlin has been old, alone, and on the run for centuries. As Merlin revisits a familiar place, he finds that a prophecy he never dared hope to believe is finally coming true. However, all may not be as it seems, and there is a new prophecy to be considered. Spoilers for all series, set after the end of series five.
1. Chapter 1 - Arthur

_Thank you for choosing to read my first ever attempt at fan fiction!_

_This fic is set after the end of series 5, and contains spoilers for the whole show, so read at your own risk if you've not seen the whole show._

_The only other warning I have for you is that it is quite possible that this will end up being quite long. I have a very specific plan for where this is headed, and I expect it to grow to a very substantial length. Never fear, I will not live it unfinished. No matter what, I will complete this fic. Expect an update at least once a week, but perhaps more if inspiration happens to strike me._

_Please review and let me know if there's anything you especially like that I've written so far, or if there's an element you'd really like me to add. If it fits with my goal for this fic, I will do my best. My goal is ultimately to create the best return story for Arthur and Merlin that I can, so your comments are very helpful. If you ever want to PM me, feel free to send me any thoughts you might have! I would love to meet my readers!_

_Without further ado, I present:_

_"The Once and Future Risen King."_

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Arthur**

It was the sensation of becoming aware that first struck Arthur Pendragon.

He felt as if he had been unconscious, yet somehow he knew exactly what had happened around him and in his own mind during that entire period.

Arthur had been asleep for a very long time.

The second sensation to strike him was that of being underwater. This was for the simple reason that he was, in fact, suspended beneath the surface of a lake.

His armor should have dragged him down, but he was instead resting in the center of the body of water, about halfway down, as restful as if he was in his own bed.

The memories of how he had come to be in this lake were fuzzy, but it occurred to Arthur that he must have died. Was the afterlife underwater? He hadn't expected it to be, but he also hadn't expected to wake up from death.

A feeling of movement struck him next, and Arthur realized he was slowly drifting towards the surface of the water. In clenching his hands, he realized he was holding his sword. The sword Merlin had given him.

Merlin!

Memories were starting to come back to him the closer he got to the surface. There had been a battle, and a sorcerer had helped his army to win. Except, it hadn't been a true victory. Mordred had stabbed him.

Oddly enough, where there ought to be a wound Arthur could feel no scar.

What had happened after that? Merlin had dragged him into the forest, then revealed that he was in fact a sorcerer. Not just a sorcerer – he was _the _sorcerer. That insane old man Arthur had hated for so long. It was impossible to believe. It was even worse when Arthur realized Gaius had always known.

The bright light shining through the water struck Arthur's face. He could feel the sunbeams as he rose.

Merlin had protected Arthur as they traveled, hoping to reach a place where he could be cured of the enchantment Mordred's sword had possessed.

Arthur had come to accept Merlin's magic. Merlin wasn't evil, he knew that, and Merlin was using magic for good. Above all, he was using magic to protect Arthur.

They had been too late. That memory came last, rushing forward alongside the one of his sister dying at his best friend's hand. He had died shortly after that, and suddenly he knew what had followed his death. Merlin had buried him in the lake, and it had been hard. Arthur suddenly felt guilty, leaving Merlin like that. He'd never been that great of a friend, truth be told. Merlin had really been remarkably patient with him over the years. Dying in Merlin's arms had been cruel.

The onslaught of memories ceased just in time for Arthur's head to break through the surface of the water. He gasped, and air filled his lungs. It was a curious sensation; becoming alive again after being dead for so long. His eyes opened and he took in his surroundings.

It looked much like it had when he died, but Arthur couldn't pinpoint what was different about it. Sloshing out of the lake, he stood on the bank for a moment, allowing the water to seep out of his garments and drip off his chain mail.

How long had he been gone?

Arthur had no idea where to go, but as soon as he began to look around he noticed the tents. They were brightly colored, like the tournament tents in Camelot, and they surrounded the lake. People were milling in and out of the tents, dressed in way that reminded him of Camelot, but seemed off somehow.

Determined to understand, Arthur moved towards the tents. Being no longer dead meant he was king again, which meant he needed to find his kingdom. Or, he had been dead for so long that he was no longer king and didn't have a kingdom, but he refused to dwell on the possibility. For now, he would pretend to fit in with these people. Someone would be able to help him understand what had happened.


	2. Chapter 2 - Merlin

**Chapter 2 – Merlin**

Merlin stood by the sword fighting arena, his back hunched and his beard long and white. He came to this reenactment every year. It was hard to resist, given that it took place on the shores of the lake of Avalon. The festival had started sometime in the 1960's, but the events that took place in 2014 greatly differed from those he had witnessed at the genesis of the reenactment.

He didn't like being at the lake. Bad memories do not fade over time, not when they are so painful, and the lake of Avalon was the most painful memory Merlin possessed. He made a concerted effort to focus on the reenactment whenever he was here, because distraction was the only aide for his pain.

There certainly was plenty to distract. The clothes alone were amusing. Supposedly this reenactment was meant to represent the years surrounding Merlin's youth, but they didn't do it very well. Every so often Merlin sent letters to the committee responsible for the reenactment, giving them hints on historical accuracy. It hadn't helped so far, but there was always next year.

The sword fighting arena was on the backside of the lake, which was why Merlin preferred it. This was the exact opposite spot from where he had buried his best friend, and therefore the least likely place to force him into painful memories. As an added bonus, watching young men in fake armor pretend to fight each other was one of the funniest things about the twenty first century.

No one ever seemed to pay Merlin much mind, and that was how he liked it. He had grown very good at adapting to whatever changes came over the years, and his appearance as a decrepit old man gave him a certain amount of anonymity that he found useful. Sometimes, when he had nothing better to do, he would travel into London and sit in the tube stops to listen to street musicians. People rarely stopped to listen, and in some cases they were missing out.

That was Merlin's biggest problem with the twenty first century. No one stopped to enjoy life anymore. Except, perhaps, in these reenactments. The idea was to celebrate the past and learn about history, and Merlin wholeheartedly supported the idea. He had even gone to a festival about himself and the legendary King Arthur Pendragon, but he couldn't stay. Even with the glaring inaccuracies about their lives, it had been too much to bear.

He had considered writing a book at one point, and had even written the first draft, but in this day and age it would be considered a work of fiction, not fact, and he couldn't bring himself to publish a book on the great reign of Queen Guinevere Pendragon as a work of fiction.

This year had moved by slowly for Merlin so far, and he actually appreciated the reenactment at Avalon, for once. It was a constant in his life, and he had few of those. He would take the memories it dredged up in exchange for a weekend without monotony.

A splashing noise diverted his attention towards the lake. It was only children running in and out of the water, but the sound had affected him more than he'd thought. It had been many, many years since Merlin had buried Arthur in the lake. There was no reason for him to expect anything to change this year.


	3. Chapter 3 - Arthur

**Chapter 3 – Arthur**

Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, had never been more confused in his entire life.

The first person he had spoken to, a young woman, had offered him a fake shield to go with his sword. She appeared to be selling them in bulk, and he couldn't figure out what the thing was made out of. It bent easily and was clearly no protection against the enemy. Plus, he'd never really fought with a shield except in tournaments, and this was not a worthy tournament shield. He'd tried to explain that to the young woman, who asked if he was inebriated and took the shield from him.

That had only been his first encounter, and each new experience was stranger than the last. Children ran all around, pretending to fight with wooden swords and using vocabulary Arthur was not familiar with. There was the familiar smell of cooking meat in the air, but when Arthur located it he was informed that he had to trade for it with a currency he'd never heard of.

Perhaps the most bizarre thing of all was the sheer number of times he'd been complimented on his 'costume.' He'd given up asking "what costume?" because the most common response was that he was definitely good at his job. His job was king of Camelot, which he prided himself on being relatively good at, but he didn't think that was what they meant.

Each tent he had entered ended up being home to some sort of activity, usually aimed towards children. There were lots of activities to teach children combat, but none of it was legitimate combat. It was unthinkable to teach a six year old how to decapitate his sister, but Arthur was nearly certain that's what one instructor suggested to a little boy.

Other tents advertised clothing, which was always off somehow. Most of the people Arthur saw were wearing relatively normal clothes, but they weren't quite what he was used to, and he couldn't figure out what was so off about them. Stranger still were the people not wearing normal clothing. He saw multiple women wearing blue pants, and the shirts and shoes he saw were more foreign that anything he'd encountered before.

Another interesting discovery was that of the camera. Arthur had been out of the lake for all of ten minutes when he was asked for his first photograph. It was likely that the picture had not turned out well, as the concept of a camera had yet to be explained to him. It was four more pictures before Arthur convinced someone to explain a camera to him. They agreed, telling him it was fun to 'play along' for the sake of the children. Arthur had found the camera fascinating, and proceeded to stop whenever someone asked for his picture. Such a device! Despite its wonder, however, Arthur was well aware of its significance as a clue. Clearly, this was not the kingdom he knew.

After exploring every tent on the side of the lake he had entered from, Arthur began to move around towards the backside of the lake, where the tents seemed to continue on indefinitely. He moved faster when he heard the sound of swords clinking. Finally, something that had not changed!

Arthur stopped as soon as he came within sight of the sword fighting arena. What on earth were those men doing to each other? If they were trying to fight, they were doing it horribly. After his initial reaction of offense wore off, Arthur actually started to laugh. Clearly this was meant to be a comedy show for the gathered masses!

Distracted by a movement of color, Arthur turned his head slightly to see an old man standing by the arena. He turned, looking towards the lake in reaction to some sound.

Arthur froze. He knew that face. He used to be both angry at and afraid of that face.

Until he learned who the face belonged to.

Without thinking, he started to run.


	4. Chapter 4 - Merlin

**Chapter 4 – Merlin**

Merlin turned back to the arena, trying to shake the fog that had settled over him. He shouldn't have raised his hopes in reaction to a silly noise from some children.

"MERLIN!"

He started violently. Was he going mad? It had been a distinct possibility a few times. If not mad, perhaps he'd fallen asleep without realizing it and was dreaming. That was unlikely.

Merlin turned, slowly, just in time to see the king of Camelot come to a faltered stop in front of him, gasping for breath and looking very excited.

"That's...that's not...you're not..." Merlin struggled for words, his mouth gaping as he took in Arthur's appearance. He was wearing exactly what he'd gone into the lake in...what he'd died in. He looked exactly the same as he had so many centuries before.

His breath returning to him, Arthur managed to say, "It's you, isn't it? I knew it. No other old man looks that sneaky when he's not even doing anything."

Merlin reacted without thinking. "I don't look sneaky! This is just my face you clot-" He broke off, staring at his best friend.

"I suppose I ought to be offended." Arthur said wryly.

"I wasn't being particularly creative," Merlin replied offhandedly. "Save the offense for when I think of something good."

"Duly noted," Arthur's eyes rolled as they had during many previous exchanges such as this back in Camelot.

"This isn't possible," Merlin said seriously, his elderly face accentuating his somber expression. "I mean, Kilgarrah told me you'd return, but I never really thought..."

"Who?" Arthur asked, his lip curling up and his forehead wrinkling in confusion.

"My old friend, the dragon," Merlin said dismissively, distracted by Arthur's too familiar facial expressions. "He told me you were the Once and Future King, and you'd rise out of the lake, but I..."

"What, you thought you were rid of me?" Arthur mock punched Merlin's shoulder teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Hardly. I'm pretty sure you've been haunting me these many centuries." Merlin replied. "Come, let's get out of the public eye. You've probably got a lot of questions, and I'd rather not be overheard while answering them."

"I do, but...wait, did you say _centuries_?!" Arthur gaped at his friend as the realization of that word dawned on him.

"I did. Come, let's find somewhere private where we can talk." Merlin started walking towards the woods behind the lake.

"Hold on! For an old codger you walk pretty fast!" Arthur hurried along to keep up.

"Oh!" Merlin stopped dead.

Arthur nearly plowed into him. "What?" He asked, irritated.

Merlin chuckled. "Nothing, I'd just forgotten I was still elderly. I never really bothered about my appearance after I went into hiding."

"What do you mean hiding?" Arthur immediately asked, his tone serious.

"Come on, shelter first, then we talk."

The two friends ducked under the cover of the trees, then walked a little ways in until the din of the reenactment had faded.

"Arthur, I'm going to do magic. Do you want to maybe face away or something?" Merlin shrugged as he spoke, indicating a tree Arthur could choose to focus on if he so wished.

"I'm fine, Merlin. What are you going to do?" Arthur sat on a boulder and crossed his arms, looking at his friend expectantly.

"Alright then." Merlin dug into his satchel and retrieved a vial, the contents of which he promptly swallowed. He made a face, shuddered, and shifted into the appearance of a twenty-something young man. "Ugh, that stuff tasted loads better when Gaius used to make it. I'm not as good at potions and such."

"Merlin!" Arthur said excitedly, standing up and patting him soundly on the back in appreciation. "Thank God, I was mildly afraid I'd have to put up with you as an old man. You're awfully grumpy with a beard."

Merlin shoved him off. "Oi, some respect would be nice! I'm way older than you now, and I outrank you." He smirked.

"Oh really? How so?" Arthur asked, sitting back down and assuming a 'this ought to be good' expression.

"Arthur, you've been dead for centuries. Literally, centuries. I've lived that whole time. I'm ancient now. However, I'm still the most powerful sorcerer in the world. You're a young adult without a job. Therefore, I outrank you." Merlin leaned against a tree, the historical robes he'd been draped in as an old man nearly swallowing his skinny frame.

A variety of expressions passed over Arthur's face before he responded. "What happened...after?"

"That, my friend," Merlin said slowly, "is a very long story."


	5. Chapter 5 - Arthur

**Chapter 5 – Arthur**

There's a certain amount of time allotted for adjustment to a man who's just risen from a watery grave. Arthur had been enjoying that period, because it allowed him to regain his feel for the ground and to find Merlin. However, finding Merlin had brought reality to his forefront. If centuries had passed, certainly his wife was long dead, as well as all his friends. Well, most of them. Which brought a new question to mind, namely how Merlin had managed to not only stay alive for centuries, but immediately return to the form Arthur had best known him in.

"What do you want to know first?" Merlin asked.

"Guinevere," Arthur replied immediately. "I want to know what happened to my queen."

Merlin smiled broadly. "You'd have been proud of her," he promised Arthur. "Losing you was hard on her, but she was probably the greatest ruler Camelot ever had. She united Albion, you know. She always said it was really you, because your death was something that the kingdoms allied around, but she was really fantastic. She reigned for a long time, and accomplished a lot of good." His smile became wistful, lost in memory.

Arthur was pleased. "I'm glad," he said softly. "That she ruled so well. I had faith in her."

"She knew that," Merlin assured him. "That's what gave her the strength to rule at all."

"What about you?" Arthur asked hesitantly. "What did you do after..."

"You died?" Merlin asked. He made a face, not enjoying the memories. "Honestly? I didn't ever properly go back to Camelot. Gaius had sort of let Gwen guess that I was a sorcerer, so when I went back to Camelot to say goodbye to him, he insisted I stay to help Gwen for at least a few days. I didn't want to be around anyone at the time, but Gwen needed me as much as I needed her. I guess I was sort of her Gaius in a way. She wasn't at all afraid of me or angry at me for being a sorcerer. All she wanted to do was thank me for taking care of you for so long, and to ask me about how you died. I tried to spare her details, but she was insistent. We were always good friends, and I think that bond helped heal the wounds faster than time would have. Anyway, I stayed in Camelot for about a month to assist Gwen as an adviser, but I stayed in the shadows. After that I only visited the city sporadically. No one other than Gaius and Gwen ever knew I was there."

"What, not even the knights?" Arthur asked, surprised. "They were your friends too, at least some of them anyway. Gwaine, surely."

Merlin winced. "Morgana killed Gwaine," he said sadly. "That's how she found us in the first place, she tortured it out of him."

Arthur's face cycled between anger and sadness before he resumed a listening expression. "Was anyone else lost?"

Merlin hesitated. "Arthur, you realize everyone is dead now. I've lived through the death of everyone I've ever known. If you're asking who you outlived, Gwaine is the only one I'm aware of. Everyone else lived relatively long lives. Gaius died, of course, he was always old, and that's tied for second place as the worst day of my life. Please don't ask me who else died, Arthur, because for me, the answer is everyone."

Quiet, Arthur thought for a few moments. Without raising his voice he asked, "Losing Gaius was only tied for second place? I'd have thought..."

Sighing deeply, Merlin uncrossed his arms and recrossed them the other way. "Losing Gaius and losing my father were two of the hardest things I've had to live through," he said, his expression grim. After so many years, keeping himself in check was easier than it had been in his youth.

"Your father?" Arthur asked with confusion. "I thought you never knew him."

"I knew him for a day," Merlin said sadly, not enjoying the memory. "You met him too."

"What? When? I don't remember that at all!" Arthur gave Merlin the 'you must be crazy' look with which he was so familiar, and Merlin almost smiled.

"Remember Balinor?" Merlin reluctantly asked.

Comprehension dawned on Arthur's face and he stared at Merlin in surprise. "The last Dragon Lord? That was your father?"

"Yes," Merlin replied curtly.

Old memories suddenly made much more sense in context, and Arthur mentally hit himself for being so blind. "I'm such an idiot, Merlin. I should have seen all this stuff way before. You even told me that you were a sorcerer! When Guinevere was accused of healing her father...I suppose that was you?"

"It was. Any time your life or the life of anyone close to me was saved in a way that seemed even a bit odd, that was probably me. Especially you, I lost count of how many times I had to save you." Merlin smirked a little bit as he said that, remembering the hundreds of times he had saved his best friend secretly.

Arthur made a face. "I do have some of my own skills, Merlin," he said, irritated. "I'm not completely useless without you."

"No," Merlin allowed, "but you would've been dead long before you actually were. Remember when I first came to Camelot? I saved your life then. With magic. Right in front of your father too." He cringed as he thought about doing magic around Uther. That had never been particular enjoyable.

Arthur made a noise of comprehension. "I can't believe you did magic under my father's nose. Doing it around me is one thing. If I ever figured it out I wouldn't have had you killed, but my father would have hung you himself!"

"Really, Arthur? You're sure you wouldn't have felt obligated to execute me? After all, magic was illegal." Merlin was partially teasing, but genuinely curious at the same time.

"Do you really believe that of me?" Arthur asked seriously. "That I would execute a friend who hadn't done a crime?"

"Mordred?" Merlin asked pointedly. "That was handled well."

"That was completely different!" Arthur protested. "But you're right, I didn't handle it as well as I might have."

Merlin nodded in agreement. "I'd say so, considering he killed you."

Arthur made a face at him. "You said magic was illegal, past tense. Did Guinevere bring it back?" He couldn't decide what he wanted to hear in response to that.

"Not exactly," Merlin replied. "That was complicated. She really wanted to allow magic, partially for my sake I think, but she didn't want to dishonor you either. I helped her draw up new laws on magic. Part of it was provision for punishing Morgana's remaining followers. Basically the laws boiled down to intent. Magic wasn't illegal, but using it to do wrong was. The druids came out of hiding and became valued members of the kingdom. We had some amazing magical healers come to live in Camelot, and some great entertainment from traveling magicians. Gwen and I treated magic like a talent. It's like having a talent for stealth. You can use that for good or evil, but only the latter ought to get you tossed in jail. That's what we did for magic."

Arthur thought about that for awhile. His queen was wise, he couldn't deny that. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. "I should have done that," he admitted.

"Probably," Merlin agreed, "but I don't blame you for outlawing magic. I stopped you from allowing it once or twice, remember?"

"Yeah." Arthur paused, and confusion returned. "Wait, why would you do that? I thought you were just showing rare wisdom at the time, but you're a sorcerer! Why would you want magic outlawed in Camelot?"

"Arthur, I knew that Mordred was your doom long before it happened, and I did everything I could to stop it. If that meant having to protect you and Camelot from the shadows, as I had always done, I could deal with that." Merlin smiled sadly. "I got rather good at it."

"I can't even imagine how much work it must have been, hiding it," Arthur mused.

"That reminds me," Merlin said suddenly, a juvenile impulse coming upon him. "Any time you yelled at me for spending all day or more in the tavern? I was never in the bloody tavern! I was always off doing something dangerous to save either your sorry hide or mine, and I always came back to a firm scolding for allegedly drinking myself into oblivion! You have no idea how much I wanted to strangle you sometimes!"

Arthur tried to hide a smile but couldn't quite manage it. "The more I think about it, the more I can't figure it out. Why on earth did you put up with me? You could have easily turned me into a toad, or magically made me nicer to you, or whatever you wanted! Why in heaven's name would you take so much abuse for so little reward?" His tone was a mixture of teasing and honest curiosity.

"What do you mean, little reward?" Merlin replied far more seriously than he had been asked. "Arthur, you're the Once and Future King. It was an honor to serve you. Sure I wanted to kick you across the castle sometimes, but you were still my best friend and my king, no matter what."

Arthur didn't respond to that. A question formed in his eyes, but he couldn't speak it.

"I know what you're wondering," Merlin said quietly. "Yes, your death was the worst day of my life. You have no idea the weight that's lifted from me now that the prophecy is fulfilled. You've risen from Avalon, Arthur, and it's the best thing that's happened to me in a far longer time than I care to admit."

There was a pause, as the two men shifted awkwardly. "I feel like we ought to hug now," Arthur grunted.

Merlin chuckled. "Well, don't strain yourself."


	6. Chapter 6 - Merlin

**Chapter 6 – Merlin**

Merlin found himself wondering how Arthur was doing it. He seemed completely normal, not at all like a man who'd been dead for centuries and awoken to find out everyone he loved was dead. Perhaps he was just in shock.

Also on the list of things Merlin found curious was his youthful body. Merlin had allowed himself to grow old a long time ago, and having a body that could move without creaking was very odd. He wondered if he would have ever resumed this age had he not found Arthur again. Being old had its benefits on occasion. Still, if age was required, he had mental acuity rivaling the most intelligent men in history or alive, and the magic to make himself look old if required.

His discussion with Arthur had shifted away from from the events following his death. Merlin could tell Arthur did not want to force him to relieve what might be painful memories, which Merlin greatly appreciated. Instead, they had moved on to older memories in which Merlin had used magic under Arthur's nose.

"So, you're friends with a dragon?" Arthur asked.

"Not anymore," Merlin corrected sadly. "Kilgarrah was old and passed away not long after you."

"I'm sorry," Arthur said automatically, though he wasn't sure the passing of the dragon was a bad thing. "Though...that dragon tried to destroy Camelot," he added, voicing his concerns.

"Yes, and I'm the reason he stopped. I became the Dragon Lord when my father died, and commanded Kilgarrah to never attack Camelot again. In his defense though, your father did imprison him for a few decades." Merlin shrugged. Time and distance made old memories seem very different.

Arthur made a face, but decided not to argue the point. "Alright, well here's something you need to explain to me. My father."

"What about him?" Merlin sighed.

Arthur hesitated, then tentatively asked, "Did you kill him?"

Merlin reacted instantly, vehemently shaking his head. "NO. Believe me, Arthur, I did my best to save that man, and against my better judgement. The spell I used should have cured him."

"Then why...?" Arthur trailed off. Dwelling on his father's passing was still a painful memory.

"Agravaine betrayed your plan to Morgana, and she had him put a charm around Uther's neck. Gaius found it after the fact. It was designed to reverse any healing magic and cause irreparable harm. In trying to save Uther, he was murdered. It was by Morgana's hand though, not mine." Merlin scowled, remembering the presence of Arthur's uncle with considerable distaste.

"What happened to my uncle, anyway?" Arthur mused, not really speaking to Merlin.

"I killed him." Merlin answered bluntly. "Sorry." His tone made it clear he was not remotely apologetic.

"What, seriously?" Arthur asked, doing a double take. He hadn't really expected an answer, least of all from Merlin.

"He was trying to kill me, or at least betray me to Morgana, which was essentially the same thing. Though, he only tried to kill me after I had stopped him killing you one too many times for Morgana's comfort." Merlin was still scowling at the memory. Killing Agravaine was not anywhere near his top ten regrets.

Arthur couldn't seem to decide whether or not he had a problem with his uncle's passing. "I feel like every memory I have is only one side of a story," he admitted.

"Arthur, that would be true whether magic was involved or not. They're your memories, so they're only your side of the story." Merlin tapped his own head. "That's true for me too, although I do perhaps see a tad more extensively than you."

"What, because of your considerable age?" Arthur asked.

"That," Merlin allowed, "And because I'm a very wise man." He said this in an imperious tone, kicking dirt at Arthur when he rolled his eyes.

"I have another question," Arthur said suddenly.

"You'll have a lot of questions for a long time, Arthur. You don't need to announce them all before you ask, I'm expecting them." Merlin sighed as he said this, but his eyes were light for the first time in years.

"Alright. I'd like to know about my sword. Is it magic?" Arthur asked, holding up the beautiful blade.

"Ah. Yes and no." Merlin thought for a moment before explaining. "Gwen's father made the blade, so it is well crafted. Gwen gave it to me, and I had it forged in the breath of Kilgarrah. Nothing it pierces can live. It's been used to slay the undead. Incidentally, you were pierced with a blade also forged in a dragon's breath, which is why the blow was fatal."

Arthur nodded as this sunk in. "Dragon sword. That's amazing."

Merlin smiled. "Considering how it's saved your life a few times, I'm glad I had it made for you."

"Have you ever done anything other than protect me, Merlin? Have you ever used magic for yourself?" Arthur leaned forward, genuinely curious.

Merlin felt himself blush and he scratched his head, trying to find a way to distract Arthur onto a different topic.

"What did you do?" Arthur asked, starting to grin.

"I may have done a lot of my chores with magic," Merlin admitted. "Gaius always told me not to, he was afraid I'd be caught."

Arthur started laughing. "Most powerful sorcerer in the world, right. And all you did was the washing a bit quicker?"

Merlin blushed and added seriously, "The only important thing I ever wanted to use magic for was protecting my best friend, which I was quite good at."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "Now that I know, I appreciate it. Just so you know, I'm sorry I was so cruel at first, when you first told me. I felt betrayed, but the more I learn the more I realize I can't be angry with you. All you ever did was save me, and you never asked for anything."

"Thank you," Merlin said softly. "All I ever wanted was for you to know the truth and accept me. I never told you because my dreams of a future were overshadows by my fears of the present."

"I guess you never figured we'd be having these conversations so far in the future." Arthur pointed out, glancing around the woods that seemed so like the ones he had known before.

"No, I didn't," Merlin admitted. "There's a lot of great stuff in this century though. We need to get changed out of these clothes, and then I'm taking you to London."

"Where?" Arthur asked, puzzled.

"Don't worry about it. Trust me, you'll love it. First though, ASDA. You can wear something of mine until we get you some jeans and a t-shirt." Merlin eyed Arthur's armor with amusement.

"I didn't understand most of that," Arthur admitted. "Except, you're probably half my size. I'm not going to fit into anything you wear."

"Well if you'd laid off the pies at the dinner table, that might not be a problem." Merlin said imperiously, dodging out of the way as Arthur tried to swat him. "Don't worry about it though. If necessary I can increase my clothes by a size or two." He moved his hand in a swooshing motion to mime magic.

Arthur made a face at him and rolled his eyes. "That's going to take some getting used to," he muttered.


	7. Chapter 7 - Arthur

**Chapter 7 – Arthur**

Arthur had never felt more confused in his entire life. The gigantic building Merlin had taken him to, apparently called ASDA, had more in it he didn't understand than that which he did. Clothing was relatively simple for Merlin to explain. Shirts and pants were shirts and pants, no matter what the century. The fabric was a bit odd, but he'd get used to it.

It was everything else that was puzzling. Merlin seemed completely at ease in this world, which was odd. Arthur was aware that Merlin had lived through centuries of time, but the fact that he seemed to understand everything was hard for Arthur to grasp. He was deliberately ignoring the ramifications of all that time, because dwelling on the fact that Guinevere was dead, along with all of his friends, was too painful. He couldn't even imagine how Merlin hadn't gone insane.

"Okay, before you learn about anything else, I'm getting you something to eat," Merlin announced.

"Now that you mention it, I'm starving." Arthur admitted eagerly.

Merlin grinned at him with an expression that made Arthur a little nervous.

"What?" He demanded.

Merlin shook his head and motioned for Arthur to follow him out of the shop. It was a short walk to their next stop, which was a bizarre looking building. Poking out of the side was a clear bubble filled with swirling tubes in various colors. Arthur had never seen anything like it, and he couldn't imagine what its purpose was.

"Welcome to McDonald's," Merlin announced, his tone sarcastic.

"Where?" Arthur asked as they walked in the building. It was even more confusing on the inside, but he had given up trying to understand anything about this century at first glance.

"It's a restaurant. You order food and they bring it to you. Like the tavern, except this food is worse." Merlin eyed a listing of food on the wall warily.

"If it's awful food," Arthur said skeptically, "then why are we here?"

"Because, everything you ever eat after today will be the new best thing you've ever eaten, because there's very little that's worse quality than McDonald's. Plus, I really want you to try chips." Merlin grinned and stepped forward, following the queue.

That didn't make much sense to Arthur, but he elected not to argue. Merlin ordered for them, then they stood by a counter until the food was handed to them. They went and sat down by a window, and Merlin started shifting the food between them.

"There, you've got a burger and chips, and that drink there is Coke. Just try it, you'll like it." Merlin shoved the food in front of him, then started arranging his own food.

"What have you got?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Same as you, but I've got bacon on mine, and my drink is Fanta Lemon." Merlin opened up his burger and started squirting sauce on it. At Arthur's questioning look he added, "ketchup and mustard, and there's mayo as well if you'd like it. Might as well go whole hog your first time."

Arthur looked at the sauces doubtfully, but added them to his burger. "So, will I like this or not?"

Merlin shrugged, a bite of his own burger already in his mouth. He swallowed and said, "Depends. This is guilt food for me. If I feel like crap, and all I want to do is eat junk and sulk, I come here." He made a face and admitted, "I've been here a lot. Trust me though, you'll be amazed by this, and astonished by everything you eat after. Just give it a go."

Arthur decided not to press the topic and took a huge bite of his burger. He chewed a few times and swallowed, his eyes going wide. "This is..." He paused, not knowing an adequate word.

Merlin grinned. "I know, right? Have some of the chips."

The meal continued like that, with Arthur becoming more and more enamored with his meal with every bite. When they'd finished, he wanted to order more, but Merlin shook his head.

"One fast food meal is plenty, let's get you up to speed on your history."

Arthur made a face. "Do we have to?"

"Yep." Merlin wiped his mouth and tossed the contents of the tray into the rubbish. "I've decided we have two important goals at the moment. One is to get you acquainted with the current century."

"What's the other?" Arthur asked.

"I need to find a new prophecy." Merlin said, a frown descending on his face. "That won't be easy."

"How will you find a prophecy, and why do you need one? What was the last one anyway?" Arthur was wary, but curious nonetheless.

"My last prophecy, and the most important, was the coming of your death, followed by the promise of your eventual resurrection." Merlin frowned slightly, disliking the memory. "Anyway, I believe the best place to find further guidance is in the Crystal Cave."

"Which is?" Arthur prompted.

"The birthplace of magic," Merlin replied.


	8. Chapter 8 - Merlin

**Chapter 8 – Merlin**

There had been a long stretch of time about two hundred years ago where Merlin lived inside the Crystal Cave. He couldn't see any logical reason to interact with the rest of society, which was moving far too quickly anyway, and living in a place so full of magic gave him peace. He'd finally reengaged with the world twenty years later, but he tried to go back every few years to at least feel the presence of magic. He didn't use it much himself, but he liked to feel like he wasn't alone in the world. As far as he could tell, magic wasn't half as common as it had been in his day.

When it came to magic, Arthur was being remarkably well mannered about it. Merlin had expected more protesting from him, but he seemed content to go along with Merlin's current plans.

The Crystal Cave was a good four days drive from where they were, and Merlin didn't own a car. He had done for awhile, but it hadn't really been practical for the small amount of traveling he had done at that time, so he'd sold it. With Arthur around now though, Merlin thought that walking might not be their best option.

Finding an ATM was Merlin's first goal after leaving McDonald's, and giving Arthur a brief explanation of banking, currency, and how an ATM worked ended up being the second. Once he'd located the nearest ATM, he had Arthur stand guard while he used magic to convince the machine to give him an unlimited balance on the card he carried for emergencies.

It took longer to find a second-hand car lot, but by the end of the day Merlin had acquired a car, a full tank of petrol, and snacks for the road.

Arthur had been astonishingly compliant during this whole process, but he seemed like he might be starting to lose a bit of his cool over the car.

"What is this?" Had been his first question, followed by many others as Merlin tried to explain the concept of an automobile.

"Blimey, Arthur, I'm getting tired," He finally said, throwing his hands up. "Tell you what. When we get to the next hotel, I'm sticking you online so you can read up whatever you like on Wikipedia or something."

Arthur looked bewildered, and opened his mouth to ask, but at Merlin's expression he shut it again. "Sorry, this is just all new to me."

"Yeah, I know," Merlin sighed. "It was probably easier to live through the invention of all this stuff."

Being keen to get to the Crystal Cave, Merlin packed up the rest of his belongings into the boot of the car and taught Arthur both what a seat belt was and why he had to wear it.

Merlin had little experience with road trips. He had never driven with another person in the vehicle, and it felt awkward to him. He and Arthur had yet to redefine their friendship in a twenty first century context, and some of their conversations were uncomfortable, given Merlin's more extensive knowledge of the world. To stave off further question and answer sessions for a little while, Merlin turned on the car's radio.

"You're the voice, try and understand it! Make a noise and make it real! Whoah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Oh-whoah-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oooohhh."

Humming along for a moment, Merlin switched stations until he found a classical music station. 80's music was alright, but he preferred the music of seventeenth century composers.

Glancing over at Arthur, he saw that his friend was staring slack-jawed at the radio. His lips twitched for a moment before he finally lost it and started laughing.

Startling, Arthur looked up at him. "What's so funny?" He demanded.

"Your face, Arthur. It was priceless." Merlin regained control with one last chuckle, refocusing on the road.

"I just don't understand how it works," Arthur said sullenly. "It isn't magic, is it?"

"Hardly," Merlin replied. "I already showed you the television at ASDA, remember? Same idea, except the radio is just sound. Usually music."

Arthur relaxed as he remembered the explanation about the television. "You're right, I do remember that. I don't understand how you are able to interact with all of this as if it were no big deal. You're simultaneously a part of an ancient world and a brand new one. How do you reconcile that in your mind?"

Merlin was quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond. "I have many years locked away inside my mind," he began. "I have learned to...compartmentalize, I suppose you could say. If I want to look into my life in Camelot, I have a segment of my mind devoted to that part of my life. However, if I wanted to move forward to the war between the United Kingdom and North American Colonies during the 18th century, I have an entirely different part of my mind devoted to that time period. If I dwell on everything all at once my head would probably explode."

Absorbing that for a moment, Arthur chose to ask about something less complicated. "I don't want to harass you with my questions," he said hesitantly.

"It's fine, Arthur. Believe me, I understand." Merlin smiled at him reassuringly, then returned his eyes to the road.

"Well, I'm curious about geography actually. I assume the landscape of the world is vastly different from how I knew it." Arthur did not look particularly pleased with the idea.

Merlin shrugged. "Everything just has a new name, and in same cases was discovered and has been renamed multiple times in my lifetime. Camelot was a great city that no longer exists, and has been lost to time. In the place of the five kingdoms we have the United Kingdom. England, where Camelot was, Scotland, Wales, and part of Ireland. Not the whole thing, since part of it decided to be its own country."

"Not to sound self-centered, but that's all I really care about," Arthur admitted sheepishly. "I just wanted to know where on this new world's map I could find the places I knew and loved."

"Don't worry," Merlin said as comfortingly as he could. "I understand exactly how you feel."


	9. Chapter 9 - Arthur

**Chapter 9 – Arthur**

There was nothing quite like the world wide web. Merlin had given up trying to explain it to Arthur and had sat him down with an old laptop to figure it out for himself after opening Wikipedia for him.

"Just type in whatever you want to know about and read," Merlin instructed. "Trust me, it'll be faster than me answering your questions."

It took Arthur awhile to get the hang of it, but once he had it was like a magic portal had opened up on the tiny screen. By the time Merlin came back to get him, Arthur had at least skimmed every article pertaining to the history of the United Kingdom, and read up on the inventions of several technological advances he had yet to figure out. Reading about how exactly the Internet, the laptop he was using, and the car they had driven in came about was extraordinarily helpful to him.

"So?" Merlin asked, leaning against the doorpost and looking at his friend expectantly.

Arthur gave him a rundown of all the articles he had read, spouting off random nuggets of information he had found particularly interesting.

"Woah there," Merlin said with a chuckle. "You realize that the average man in your age range doesn't know even half that much history."

"Does that mean I should forget it?" Arthur asked, indignant at the thought.

"No, just don't go around spouting off random facts about William the Conqueror if you want to seem normal. I'd rather you blended in. Drawing attention to us isn't probably the best idea." Merlin's expression grew somber, as if remembering something unpleasant.

"Why do we need to lay low?" Arthur asked. Merlin had made several similar comments about hiding already, and Arthur didn't understand the need.

"There's plenty of reasons," Merlin replied dryly. "Firstly, I'm the most powerful warlock who has ever lived. Secondly, you're the most famous king in all of this country's history. Thirdly, most of our history has been turned into legend, so anyone who hears us address each other will probably think we're insane. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I've been tracked for years, and I'd rather not be located just now."

Focusing on that last part, Arthur narrowing his eyes. "Tracked by who?" He demanded.

"Morgana wasn't alone, Arthur," Merlin said with a tone of irritation. "Her allies came after me. That's part of the reason I didn't stay in Camelot for very long. Eventually they all died, but their legacy continued. Morgana had a legion of followers who saw her as royalty. She was, after all, the last high priestess of the old religion. Even today there are those who see her as their queen, who I unjustly murdered. They know I'm out here, that I have not died."

"Are you immortal?" Arthur asked warily. "Is that how you've lived so long?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Merlin scoffed. "I can die. I have almost died many times. More than I care to remember. Sometimes from injuries, sometimes from magic, and once from the sheer weight of my own pain. Regardless, I have survived. I'm not just an average sorcerer, Arthur. I'm not going to die. Don't get me wrong, I can be killed, but I'm not going to die on my own. Only if someone else kills me. I've avoided that so far by being clever." He grinned as he said this, but it did not reach his eyes. Hundreds of years of running alone had altered him in ways Arthur had yet to fully grasp.

Arthur processed that information slowly. "It feels weird," he finally said, but did not elaborate.

"What does?" Merlin asked, moving away from Arthur to sit on one of the hotel beds.

"It being just us here," Arthur explained. "I can understand you living for so long, since you're so powerful, and I can even understand my coming back to life, since it was a prophecy, but I can't imagine why we would be alone."

Merlin was confused. "Who else are you expecting to see?"

"I keep thinking that if we can exist here, in this time, surely I'll walk around that next corner and see Guinevere, or Gaius, or Percival, or Gwaine, or any of my old friends." He trailed off, the thought making him depressed.

Merlin was unsure how to respond. Shooting down Arthur's dream seemed like a bad move. "I know how you feel," he finally said. "I too long for my friends from Camelot." Gaius more than anyone else, now that he had Arthur back.

"It keeps hitting me in different ways," Arthur mused. "The fact that I'll never see Guinevere laugh again."

"She did laugh at you a lot," Merlin agreed, ducking when Arthur chucked a shoe at his head.

In spite of himself, Arthur smiled. "I suppose we can be thankful for memories," he said wistfully.

An idea occurred to Merlin, and he got off the bed and walked back over to Arthur. "Here, pass me the laptop."

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Giving you my memories," Merlin muttered as he awkwardly navigated the screen at an angle. Finding the document he wanted, he opened it and passed the computer back to Arthur. "There. I call that manuscript, 'The Great Rule Of Queen Guinevere Pendragon.' It covers her assent to the throne to her death. All the bits I was there for or knew about at least. I thought about publishing it, but I didn't feel like pitching it to the publishing companies as fiction, and no one these days would believe it was true."

Arthur stared at the screen for a moment before looking up at Merlin. "Thank you," he managed to say faintly. He had no idea how to communicate how much this gift meant to him.

"You're welcome," Merlin said seriously. "If anyone needs to read this, it's you. I'll be back in a bit." He slowly opened the door and let himself out, leaving Arthur alone with the details of his wife's life.


	10. Chapter 10 - Merlin

**Chapter 10 - Merlin**

Merlin walked around the cheap hotel he and Arthur were staying in for the night. He didn't really feel like aimlessly strolling, but it seemed better to leave Arthur alone for a few hours to read. Goodness knows Merlin needed to be alone with his thoughts from time to time.

Arthur's comment about expecting to see their old friends just coming around the corner was nudging at the edge of Merlin's subconscious like an irritating itch. He had lived for so long on his own that being alone had become normal. He had drifted away from his memories of Camelot, allowing time to block out the pain of the ones he had loved being swallowed by time. First he had been informed by Percival of Gwaine's passing, a blow that was numbed somewhat by his all consuming grief over Arthur. Following hard on the heels of that news was the realization that Kilgarrah had passed away as well. It wasn't that Merlin hadn't seen it coming, but knowing that he could never again call on the dragon for help was hard to accept.

Gaius' funeral was terrible to endure. He had buried both his father and best friend already, but was then forced to bury his adopted father as well. Even with the few knights who considered him a friend and his position assisting Gwen, it was with Gaius' passing that Merlin became completely alone.

Most of the knights Merlin had considered friends died of old age. Leon had been the last to die, and the only one who had passed during one of Merlin's visits to Camelot. His eyes had lit up when Merlin came to his deathbed, pleased to see the familiar face of the young sorcerer. Leon knew about Merlin's magic, of course. Gwen's most trusted circle of friends knew about her valued adviser and all he had done to protect their deceased king. Leon's parting words to Merlin were a prayer for the warlock's safety, that he might escape his enemies and live long enough to find reason to be happy again.

Gwen, who had corrected Merlin every single time he had attempted to call her anything else, was the last of Merlin's friends to pass away. She was very old at the time, and she had demanded that Merlin stay with her when she was sure she was soon to die. In her own words, she did not want to leave Camelot without her oldest friend to say goodbye to. In a way, Gwen's passing had not been as hard. She was content as she died, knowing that her treaties with other lands would ensure Camelot was protected, despite her lack of an heir. Above all, she knew that a certain sorcerer would never let harm befall the people of his land. It was her absolute trust and faith in Merlin that allowed him to have peace when his friend finally died. He had lost Arthur far, far too early, but Gwen had lived for an incredibly long time, and had done so much good in the world. She felt she had accomplished her purpose, and her loss to the world was somehow more bearable for its timing.

Ever since Queen Guinevere Pendragon had fallen into her final sleep, however, Merlin had been truly alone. It was then that he stopped moderating his appearance and allowed himself to grow old. No one paid any attention to a doddery old man, and he was able to find a hiding place in almost any place he happened to be. Obviously he couldn't continue to call himself Merlin, but Emrys was also odd sounding in certain centuries. He had taken on a number of aliases as the need arose, but whenever he felt comfortable he used some variation on his true name. Rhys was his favourite name to hide under because of its similarity to Emrys, but he found himself missing his true identity.

When he had heard the long since dead voice of Arthur calling out to him at that reenactment, it was as though an eternity of emptiness had suddenly been filled. In one single moment, the weight of so many years had drifted off his shoulders as he became the best friend of a young king once more. In truth, that had always been his role. Even long after King Arthur Pendragon had gone to his watery grave, Merlin had always been the servant and friend of the great king. To history and legend alike, he was remembered that way. Now, of course, he was most definitely no longer the servant to a king, but Arthur didn't seem to expect him to be. There was an instant partnership and friendship that had come with this new century they were forced to live in, and Arthur seemed to be adapting well to the change.

Arthur valued Merlin; the warlock could see it in his friend when they spoke. It wasn't the glimmer of true friendship that Arthur had occasionally let show in their earlier lives, it was something much stronger. It was if the reveal of Merlin's true power had stripped away Arthur's desire to mock him as a servant. Of course, the natural banter and sarcasm that had defined their relationship remained, but there was a much stronger respect for Merlin in Arthur than there ever had been before. Of course Merlin knew that Arthur had never truly found him incompetent or worthless, much as he might have insinuated that. The subtle change in their relationship now merely made Arthur's respect for his friend so much more tangible. Not only that, but he entirely relied on Merlin to show him how to survive in this new world he had been thrust into unexpectedly.

It was on these thoughts that Arthur's comment about their dead friends was nibbling and pushing to the surface. Merlin had grown so used to suppressing those memories and surviving on his own that he had to learn how to have someone to share his life with again. Arthur's presence brought about in him a home sickness for Camelot and his old friends that he had not suffered from in many hundreds of years.

By this time, Merlin's thoughts had carried him around the block the hotel was on four or five times; he had lost count. He glanced at the old watch he wore out of convenience and decided he might as well go back to the room. Arthur may not be done reading yet, but Merlin did not want to remain alone for the rest of the evening.


	11. Chapter 11 - Arthur

**Chapter 11 - Arthur**

For a man who had been doing a relatively good job of managing his emotions since returning from the dead, it only took a few moments of reading Merlin's lovingly written manuscript to reduce the former king to tears.

Guinevere. His precious Guinevere. She had been so strong in the wake of his passing. Even without Merlin, though he was eternally grateful to the sorcerer, Arthur knew with certainty that Guinevere would have been the best ruler to ever grace Camelot's throne.

Merlin's manuscript was long, but Arthur devoured it quickly. He was ecstatic to learn that his queen had lived for so long, and so very proud of all she had accomplished. Her treaties with neighboring kingdoms and the new laws to manage magic had turned Camelot into the perfect kingdom. He felt a little chagrined at not accomplishing some of those things himself, but then, he hadn't always listened to Guinevere and Merlin as seriously as he ought to have. Merlin especially. Reading of how the sorcerer had helped shape his queen's reign, though Merlin was excessively humble about his hand in events, Arthur felt as though he had been blind for an eternity, and had only now understood the events of his life.

The odd noise of the hotel key in the funny door lock alerted Arthur to Merlin's return, and he collected himself, closing the window that the manuscript had been open in and taking a deep breath.

Merlin reentered the room warily, glancing at Arthur as though concerned the former king might have dissolved into an emotional puddle in his absence.

"I'm fine, Merlin," Arthur said in reply, taking another breath to ensure he was not going to cry again.

"I didn't say anything," Merlin responded, closing the door and taking a seat on one of the twin beds in the room. "Did you finish the whole thing?"

Arthur nodded, closing the laptop and setting it on the desk next to the television. "Thank you, Merlin. I can't repay you for such a gift."

"You don't have to," Merlin assured him, reclining onto the bed. "It's the least I can do. It's harder for you, I know that."

Arthur wasn't sure that was true, but decided not to press the point. "What do you think you'll find at the Crystal Cave?" He asked, changing the subject. Somehow, reading about how magic had helped his kingdom during Guinevere's reign had helped him grow even more comfortable with the idea. Perhaps his fears had been more founded in his own father's prejudices than he had realized.

Merlin eyed his best friend skeptically. Arthur had always been one to fear sorcery, though not to the same degree as his father. Regardless, he had never seemed to be interested in it. "Well, it's a place of magic, Arthur. I'm hoping to find guidance. There has to be a reason you've returned in 2014 and not back during the reign of the Tudors or back when the United Kingdom still had a monarchy that did more than pose for postage stamps." Merlin was exaggerating, but it was true that the monarchy of the UK in 2014 was mostly a figurehead position. The actual government wasn't really impacted by the monarchy, the way it had been years before.

Thanks to his time on Wikipedia, Arthur actually understood what Merlin meant, and he nodded in interest. "I'm curious as well," he admitted. "My return is not random, I am sure." Pausing, he glanced at Merlin curiously before asking his next question. "What have you found at the Crystal Cave before?"

"Over the years," Merlin replied slowly, "mostly peace." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I have stayed there many times when I wanted to believe I was not truly alone in the universe."

Arthur didn't have a response to that. "How does the Cave help?" He asked tentatively.

"It's like..." Merlin trailed off, not sure how to answer. "Being in a place so strong in magic makes my predecessors feel closer." A memory stirred, reminding him of the time he had gone to the Cave before Arthur's untimely death. "I once saw my father there."

"When was that?" Arthur asked, startled at the mention of the deceased Dragon Lord.

"Before the battle," Merlin replied, knowing he did not have to specify which battle he meant. "Morgana had enchanted a creature to steal my magic, and I was helpless before the one fight I knew you would need me most for. I had to leave Camelot and find the Cave in order to have any hope of restoring my powers. Gwaine came with me part of the way before joining you. Telling you I could not accompany you was...difficult." That was an understatement. Arthur calling him a coward had been incredibly painful, but Merlin did not see the benefit of telling Arthur that now.

Arthur's eyes widened in understanding, and he winced as he remembered that conversation. "I'm so sorry, Merlin. I had no idea what -"

"I know, Arthur. Don't worry about it." Merlin replied, waving off the apology.

"No, don't interrupt me," Arthur said, irritated. "If I want to apologize for being rude to you, I'm allowed to do so. Not knowing you were the most powerful warlock in existence does not excuse my having called you a coward. I knew you better than that."

Merlin merely nodded in acknowledgement, not wishing to cast blame upon his best friend for former misunderstandings. "When I went to the Cave," he continued, "I was forced to do battle with Morgana without magic, and she trapped me, determined to ensure I could not save you. Even once my father's spirit had guided me to both a return of my magic and a way of escape, she still succeeded. I may have helped win the battle, but I could not save you from the end to which she had sentenced you."

Arthur digested that, then winced as his memory lingered over Mordred stabbing him through. That had been a relationship he had not dealt with wisely. The memory of Merlin as an old man standing on a cliff top, casting enchantments over the battlefield, was hazed somewhat by the fact that he had been dying at the time. Waking up in the forest to Merlin revealing his true nature was another memory he disliked, mostly because of his regrettable reaction.

Merlin watched his friend think, his expression curious as he wondered what Arthur was dwelling on that he apparently disliked so much.

"I can't remember if I apologized for this," Arthur began, holding up a finger when Merlin started to object. "Merlin, let me finish. When you first told me you were Emrys, that you were not only a sorcerer but _the _warlock, I reacted poorly." He paused, then amended his statement. "No, I reacted hatefully. I cannot believe that after all we had been through together that I was capable of treating you in that way, and for that I am truly sorry."

The pause between the two men as Merlin attempted to digest the apology was louder than any spoken words. Merlin took a deep breath before responding. "I never blamed you, Arthur," he managed to reply softly.

Arthur gave him a skeptical look. "Really, Merlin? You never blamed me for any of the times I was awful to you, yelled at you, called you useless? Even after I knew your true nature, you didn't blame me for rejecting you?"

Merlin gave him a small smile and shook his head. "Arthur, even when I wanted to hit you with a cauldron, I never blamed you. It was never my destiny to be recognized and valued by you. It was my destiny to protect you, and with the one glaring exception of your death, I was good at it. I was upset at your reaction to my revelation, but I was not surprised. You have to understand that all I ever wanted was to help you. The fact that I could not save you after Mordred stabbed you has been my greatest regret for my entire life."

Arthur took a deep breath before replying. "I don't understand you, Merlin." He admitted.

A smile twitched at the corners of Merlin's mouth. "I think I was always somewhat of a mystery to you," he teased.

"That's true," Arthur acknowledged. "Really, Merlin, how could you be the most powerful warlock in existence, yet still manage to be the clumsiest man to ever walk the earth?"

There was a pause, then Merlin began to laugh loudly. It was the most he had truly laughed in many years, and the outburst of humor felt amazing. As soon as he could compose himself, he wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and managed to gasp out, "How could you be the most famous king in existence, yet still manage to be the biggest clotpole to ever walk the earth?"

Arthur gaped at him, then dissolved into laughter in unison with his best friend. The merriment made every memory of pain and sorrow the two had been dwelling on fade into the background. This bond of friendship between the king and his sorcerer would ultimately be their triumph against any adversity they might encounter.


	12. Chapter 12 - Merlin

**Chapter 12 - Merlin**

After centuries on his own, it took Merlin awhile to realize that he had someone else with him now. Normally when he was travelling he would wake up relatively early, get dressed, eat a quick bite, then be on his way. Having Arthur around meant he had to make sure his travelling companion was ready to go as well.

Arthur was lazy in the mornings.

At exactly 7:30am, Merlin was dressed and ready to leave the hotel room, his bag with his few worldly possessions repacked and over his shoulder. It was at that point that he realized that Arthur had not actually gotten out of bed when the alarm had gone off.

With a sigh, Merlin set his bag down and proceeded to shake the bed violently, shoving the mattress back and forth until Arthur actually woke up.

"Waaa-ah!" Arthur cried, sitting bolt upright. "What was that?!"

"Get dressed, your highness," Merlin said with a smirk, indicating the shopping bags that contained all of Arthur's worldly possessions. "We need to get on the road."

Arthur made a face at him, knowing full well that he was not royalty any longer, nor was Merlin obligated to serve him. They were equals now, in at least one sense, and the mutual respect that had always been there was now more clear between them.

Once he had managed to get jeans and t-shirt on, Arthur picked up the rest of his bags and headed towards the lobby, where Merlin was checking out for them.

Merlin looked up as Arthur walked in and smiled, gesturing towards the parking lot and mouthing, "I'll meet you there." His friend started to head off in that direction while Merlin quickly settled the bill.

Hurrying out towards the car, which Merlin had realized a beat late that he still had the keys too, he saw the former king standing grumpily beside their vehicle.

"Sorry, Arthur. I forgot I still had the keys." He unlocked the car and popped the boot, tossing his own bag in and then taking Arthur's bags as well. "C'mon then, let's move out."

"I'm going back to sleep," Arthur muttered. True to his word, Arthur was asleep before they hit the freeway.

* * *

After a full day of driving, Merlin estimated that it would take them about another two days to get to the Crystal Cave. In some ways that was no time at all, and in other ways he was overly impatient to arrive. Arthur had slept until almost noon, at which point Merlin had elected to turn on a classic rock station full blast. It wasn't really his favourite music, but it was loud, and the look on Arthur's face when he jolted awake to Starship was priceless.

"WHA-"

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," Merlin called, turning down the radio and shooting a glance at his groggy best friend.

"Not funny," Arthur muttered.

"Hey, if you don't keep me awake, then I'll fall asleep and we'll crash into something," Merlin threatened teasingly.

Arthur examined his expression critically before deciding that Merlin was probably kidding. "Fine," he grumbled. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You pick," Merlin shrugged. "I've got lots of knowledge to impart, and talking will keep me conscious."

"Okay. Um...favourite historical period?" Arthur threw out a random question, not really sure what he wanted to know at this point.

"Probably the reign of Queen Elizabeth I," Merlin answered after a moment's thought. "It was far more peaceful than the turmoil before she became queen."

Arthur nodded in agreement, remembering the article about the queen he had read the day before. "How did you deal with the whole Catholic versus Protestant thing back then?"

"I didn't get involved," Merlin replied. "I didn't want to lie about any particular allegiances, so I just stayed out of the way. If I didn't get involved, I couldn't be executed. As you're aware, I'm pretty well practiced in avoiding execution."

Arthur made a face at him. "I wouldn't have executed you!" He protested.

"I believe that," Merlin acknowledged. "Uther would have though, in a heartbeat. You can't blame me for being paranoid."

"Why did you even stay in Camelot?" Arthur wondered, thinking of all the close calls Merlin must have had. "Surely being with your mother would have been safer!"

Merlin thought about that for a moment before responding. "I'm not sure it would have been safer," he disagreed. "That was part of the reason my mother sent me to Gaius in the first place. Trust me, it was obvious from the get go that I was going to have to be really careful to survive in Camelot. The day I arrived your father was executing a sorcerer. Which, incidentally, led to me saving your life and getting stuck as your servant." Merlin smirked and glanced at Arthur. "After that, our destinies were too entwined for me to be anywhere else."

Arthur was quiet for a moment as he recalled the first time he had really properly interacted with Merlin. That had been so long ago! In fact, far longer than he cared to admit, taking into account his new century. "One thing I've always wondered," he began, "why did you still challenge me in the village after you knew who I was?"

Merlin laughed at that. "I was really young," he admitted. "It was kind of a stupid move. You have no idea how made Gaius was at me after I was thrown in prison after that. I guess I stood up to you again because I thought you were a bully and you needed to be put in your place."

Arthur gaped at him. "I was not!" He insisted.

"You were absolutely a bully, Arthur," Merlin admonished. "Even if I site myself as the only example, that's plenty of proof."

"You were my servant!" Arthur protested. "I was supposed to harass you!"

Merlin snorted. "You nearly broke my arm by beating on a shield because _you_ fell asleep in your stew."

Arthur paused for a moment before giving a small giggle. "Fair enough."

"It wasn't all bad," Merlin admitted after a moment. "I got my revenge on occasion."

"How?" Arthur asked, eyes narrowed.

"Remember the goblin?" Merlin asked, lips twitching towards a smile.

Not appreciating the reminder, Arthur simply scowled at him.

"I'll take that as a yes," Merlin continued, grinning now. "I may have...extended the vocal effects of the curse you were under once the goblin had been dealt with."

Understanding dawned on Arthur, and only the fact that his best friend was currently driving prevented him from strangling Merlin. "YOU-"

"I have never laughed so hard," Merlin said fondly. "The look on your face was priceless."

Huffing, Arthur crossed his arms and sulked. "I was braying for two days!" He complained.

Merlin didn't comment, he just laughed in response.

"It's hard to control your knights when you can't stop braying like a donkey!" Arthur scolded him, still cross.

"Then there was the time I turned you into an idiot for a few days," Merlin continued as if Arthur hadn't spoken.

"You did what?" Arthur asked, his voice dangerously calm.

"Remember when you woke up in the forest after we had escaped Camelot and you were mad because of the ridiculous clothes you were in?" Merlin prompted, recalling Arthur's actions leading up to that morning with a smile.

"Yes," Arthur recalled suddenly. "That was when we met Tristan and Isolde." Sadness coloured his features as he remembered how that particular meeting had ended in Camelot."

"Well, before that, you wouldn't leave Camelot. I know I told you that I carried you out while you were unconscious, but it was more like I enchanted you into agreeing with me that we should leave before Morgana killed us. You were sort of...out of it. When we met Tristan's gang I decided that telling them you were a simpleton was wiser than revealing that they had Arthur Pendragon on their hands." Merlin frowned slightly, remembering that his plan had not gone exactly as he might have wished.

"That's why they all thought I was an idiot at first," Arthur realized. "Why couldn't you just knock me out for a few hours and drag me out of the city?" He complained, not appreciating the fact that multiple people had seen him act like a fool.

"You're heavy," Merlin said simply.

"I am not!" Arthur protested, recalling several instances in which the two friends had debated the size of Arthur's girth.

Declining to respond, Merlin simply chuckled and re-focused on the road. It was nice to know that even a few centuries of time couldn't change their friendship.


	13. Chapter 13 - Arthur

**Chapter 13 - Arthur**

The next two days of travel went remarkably like the two before. Merlin drove every day, explaining to Arthur that it would take an unreasonable amount of time to make him capable of safe driving. They continued their banter and games of question-and-answer each day they drove, with Arthur finding himself more and more in awe of his best friend. Not that he necessarily told him that, but there was something about this version of Merlin that had the former king wondering how he could have ever been a servant.

At times, travelling in the car was so casual and easy that Arthur almost forgot their previous lives. They sang along to the radio, bickered over whatever television show they'd watched at the hotel the previous evening, and debated the plots of books. Merlin kept stopping at charity shops to pick up novels for Arthur, who was devouring them with incredible speed.

He had never been much of a reader back in Camelot, but there was something about being alive in the twenty-first century that gave him new interests, and reading was a big one. By the time they reached the town where Merlin intended to stop on the fourth day, Arthur had read six different novels, some of which he appreciated more than others.

As he followed Merlin into their hotel room, he continued the conversation they'd been having in the car about _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ by Baroness Orczy.

"I still think if he'd have just told her his secret..." Arthur began, bringing up an earlier point.

"He couldn't trust her!" Merlin interjected. "He thought she was responsible for a horrible act, and he was afraid she might betray him. Not even their love was enough to overshadow that action, even if he was wrong about it."

"That's my point," Arthur countered. "If he had told her from the beginning, she could have easily assured him that she had nothing to do with those executions. Instead they had to go through all that strife when they could have just been happy!"

Merlin nodded, conceding. "I see your point, I really do, I can just sort of identify with Percy."

A light switched on in Arthur's mind as he realized what Merlin meant. It was true, Merlin had hid his own large secret from people he cared about for years, terrified of being discovered and rejected or even killed. That made Arthur Marguerite in this equation, a fact which he ignored. Somehow, the comparison of Merlin to Sir Percival gave Arthur an entirely new view on the book.

Merlin tossed a bag of groceries from Tesco on the bag and flipped on the television, which immediately began relating some irrelevant news story. "We'll hike to the cave tomorrow," he told Arthur.

Acknowledging him noncommittally, Arthur sat down in front of the television, cracking open a soda and a bag of crisps. To Merlin's chagrin, Arthur had developed quit the affinity for junk food since arriving in the twenty-first century. He also was mesmerized whenever the television happened to be on, no matter what the program was.

Merlin grabbed the remote and started flipping channels, finally settling on a program he'd actually seen before.

They sat in silence for a moment before Arthur finally sighed. "I don't understand this at all," he admitted.

Merlin's lips twitched. "That's kind of why I put this one on," he admitted. "Your face was great."

Arthur sent him a halfhearted glare of irritation before returning his gaze to the screen. "What do you even call this sort of program?" He asked.

"Sci-fi," Merlin replied, opening his laptop and connecting it to the hotel wireless. "It's short for science fiction. It's pretty much whatever people imagine happening in the future. It changes dramatically every decade or so. What was considered sci-fi forty years ago is now either fact or just more ridiculous."

Not sure he really understood that, Arthur resigned himself to watching the confusion program, his expression growing more and more bewildered, much to Merlin's amusement.

When the program ended, Arthur turned off the television and reclined on his bed, glancing at Merlin and the laptop. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Research," Merlin said vaguely.

"About?" Arthur prompted.

Merlin didn't reply, but there was a crease in his forehead that Arthur recognized enough to associate with concern.

"About what, Merlin?" Arthur asked more insistently.

"It's nothing, Arthur, don't worry about it." Merlin waved at him dismissively and re-focused on his screen, the crease growing more pronounced.

"Too late," Arthur said firmly, walking over to look over Merlin's shoulder.

"Arthur," Merlin protested, but he was cut off.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked again, but this time with genuine confusion.

Sighing in resignation, Merlin glanced at the information on his screen in defeat. "I'm tracking the movement of Morgana's followers. They've been a lot more active recently, and I'm concerned. They usually lay low, and it's usually a lot harder to figure out where they are."

"How do you even track them?" Arthur asked with interest.

Merlin pointed out a few of the searches he had made in Google as explanation. "They tend to leave signs depending on where they're settled at any particular point. Magic is easy to recognize if you know what to look for. In any case, they aren't on our trail yet, but they're definitely active. It's...concerning."

This time Arthur responded to the prospective danger, pacing across the room as he thought. "Surely you're powerful enough to take on some henchmen of a long dead sorceress?" He asked.

Slightly pleased at Arthur's acknowledgement of his power, Merlin nodded. "That's not really what I'm worried about."

"What then?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Something must be happening, something big," Merlin said, his tone full of foreboding. "There's no way they can know that you've returned, but their movement makes me think that they're expecting something to happen, something I probably need to know about."

"Maybe you'll get your answers in the Cave," Arthur suggested.

"Maybe," Merlin mused, returning to his tracking.

Settling back down on the bed, Arthur felt his eyes droop and he yawned. "Merlin?" He asked, sleep colouring his tone.

"Yes?" Merlin replied, distracted.

"How long do we have to hike tomorrow?"

Arthur drifted to sleep to the sound of Merlin chuckling.


	14. Chapter 14 -Merlin

**Chapter 14 - Merlin**

To Merlin's relief, Arthur was awake and ready to leave by eight o'clock the following morning. Now that they were within reach of the Crystal Cave, Merlin found himself relatively intolerant of any potential delays.

However, his concern was unnecessary and they were out the door in very little time at all. Merlin led the way, and Arthur followed him without a word. The town that had sprung up around the Crystal Cave had thankfully left that portion of the woods untouched, and once they were under the cover of the trees, Merlin visibly relaxed.

"I can feel it now," he said softly. "The magic. It's in the air." His voice sounded happy, affected by the contact with a power he did not otherwise see anywhere else.

Arthur watched him closely, still wary about this plan. "How is it that this place hasn't been discovered, Merlin?" He asked quietly, not wishing to disturb the peace of the location.

"The Cave guards itself," was all Merlin would say on the matter. He was focused on some distant point, but the faint smile on his lips had not faded.

It was slow going through the woods, but eventually the two men found what they were looking for.

Merlin knew that to Arthur, it was merely the mouth of a cave. To Merlin, however, it was the source of his power and the reason he had been able to withstand the creeping madness of loneliness for so very long.

"I'm not sure what the etiquette is for non-magic people," he admitted to Arthur. "Can you stay out here for a moment? I won't be long."

Arthur nodded quickly, not all that eager to see the cave anyway, and promptly sat on a tree root. "I'll be here," he said casually.

Smiling at that, Merlin nodded once and took a deep breath before heading into the Cave.

Little had changed since the last time he had been here. There was still the faint glow the place had, as though magic seeped from every crevice in the rocks. He glanced automatically towards the last place he had seen his father, but Balinor did not materialize.

"Young warlock," a voice called to him with deep pleasure.

Turning quickly, Merlin was confronted by the head of Kilgarrah. The dragon was clearly smiling at him, and appeared to have part of his neck and his head sticking out of the cave wall. His appearance was similarly ethereal to that of Balinor's from so long ago, his head having an almost bluish glow to it.

"Kilgarrah?" Merlin asked, his voice hushed. He stretched out a hand to the dragon before letting it drop.

"Indeed, Merlin, it is I. It is good to see you again." The dragon's voice rang with sincerity.

Merlin merely nodded at that. "I might have known you would appear to guide me," he commented. "It was your prophecy that gave me hope for Arthur's return in the first place. Although, I must apologize for doubting your words. Until he emerged from the lake, I had indeed wondered if I would ever see him again."

"Fret not, young warlock," Kilgarrah said, amused. "Such a prophecy as resurrection is not to be swallowed lightly. Indeed, you may well find my new words for you to be even more difficult to grasp."

Merlin took a deep breath to steel himself, then let it out slowly. "I'm ready," he said firmly.

"Very well," the dragon breathed, his warm breath bathing Merlin's face, even though the dragon was not truly there in corporeal presence. "Much as you may doubt this, your largest trials are yet ahead of you. Perhaps you wonder why I still call you young? It is not your appearance as in the days of Camelot. Rather, it is the knowledge that you will live for many more days yet to come. These coming days will not be easy, Merlin."

With a sigh, Merlin nodded. "If I had been destined to live an easy life, I would never have been paired with Arthur," he said wryly.

A chuckle came from the dragon, accompanied by a bob of his head. "Agreed. Now, heed my words. Arthur is to rule England, and not in the way the monarchy currently exists. The people will make him their king, rising up to allow him claim to his throne. However, this will not occur without victory over your most dangerous of foes."

Merlin's brow furrowed. "I have no foes left," he reminded Kilgarrah. "Only those who follow Morgana in secret, but they are lost without a leader, and can be easily vanquished should that be required of me."

"It is not the followers you must fear, young warlock, it is their leader," Kilgarrah said pointedly.

There was a pause before Merlin's eyes narrowed. "Morgana is returning?" He asked flatly.

"It is not for me to reveal all, Merlin," Kilgarrah chastised. "I am merely to inform you of Arthur's future as king once more, the return of your greatest foe with the power of necromancy in hand, and the resurrection of Arthur's people."

Merlin's head snapped up from the ground, where he had found a pebble to stare at. "Resurrection?" He repeated. "Of who?"

"You are only one piece of the puzzle that makes Arthur Pendragon complete, young warlock. For the king of Camelot to rule over England, he must be complete once more." Kilgarrah bowed his head slightly, and began to drift back towards the cave wall.

Merlin realized a beat late that the dragon was leaving him, and he stretched out a hand to stay his departure, but let it drop again. "Thank you for your help, old friend," he said solemnly.

"It was my honor, Merlin," Kilgarrah replied before fading away entirely.

Taking a deep breath, Merlin dropped to his knees on the floor of the Cave. There were so many ramifications to be considered, and he was nowhere near ready to face Arthur yet. What could all of that mean?

England. Arthur would rule England. That part, at least, had been abundantly clear.

Morgana. Morgana was coming back. There was little else that "his greatest of foes" could possibly mean. Although, Kilgarrah had made special reference to the power of necromancy. Perhaps Morgana was the least of his worries. If she began to resurrect the dead as she had in Camelot, Merlin could be faced with far worse problems.

The final bit about Arthur as a puzzle was the most complex part of the prophecy to Merlin. He knew the whole bit about he and Arthur being two sides of the same coin, but the puzzle analogy was new. When he thought about it though, he understood what Kilgarrah had meant. As king, Arthur had drawn strength from his friendship with Merlin and Merlin's protection, though he had not known of the latter, but from others as well. Gwen, Gaius, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan, Leon, and others had all been a part of Arthur's effectiveness as king. He was complete because of those around him.

The ramifications of this thought process were abundantly clear to Merlin, but he resolved not to reveal this epiphany to his best friend. If his interpretation proved to be wrong, the consequences of shattered hope could be far more devastating than any prospective war. Even Merlin could already feel the strain of hope on his own heart.

No, Arthur could not know of this possibility, not until Merlin was certain.


	15. Chapter 15 - Arthur

**Chapter 15 - Arthur**

Arthur's head snapped up at Merlin came out of the Crystal Cave looking a little bit shell shocked. "Hey, how'd it go?" He asked eagerly.

"Huh? Oh...it was good. I got a new prophecy." Merlin rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, looking tired all of sudden.

"From who?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Kilgarrah," Merlin said softly, his voice wistful.

Arthur was hardly the gigantic dragon's biggest fan, but he could see that the appearance of Merlin's long dead friend had had a significant impact, and he patted the sorcerer's back reassuringly. "What did he have to say for himself?" He tried to ask with a jovial tone.

Merlin pursed his lips and examined Arthur for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm not going to tell you yet," he decided.

"Wait, what?" Arthur demanded, cutting Merlin off as he started to walk away. "After we came all this way, you're not going to tell me anything?"

"Alright, fine," Merlin sighed. "I'll tell you this: we have a lot of work cut out for us. I'm not sure where we need to be right now, but I have a good idea of where to start."

Frustrated, Arthur managed to ask, "Where's that?"

"London," Merlin replied, walking towards town again. "There are some details I need to figure out about what Kilgarrah told me before I tell you everything. Also, apparently we need to be more concerned about Morgana's followers than I had originally thought."

Arthur mulled over that as he followed Merlin out of the woods. The idea of dangerous followers of his insane half-sister coming after them was not pleasant, and Arthur felt almost naked in his jeans and pullover. He missed the heavy feel of his chain mail and sword, which Merlin insisted on keeping out of sight in the boot of their car. Apparently normal people didn't carry around magic-infused swords these days.

"What's London like?" Arthur asked, not wanting to trudge through the woods in silence.

"It's sort of the Camelot of its day," Merlin said after a moment's thought. "Lots of business, tourism, entertainment, and the royal family lives there too. It has a little bit of everything. We'll probably play tourist once we arrive. I can't drag you all the way to London and not give you the ground tour."

"Do you know London well?" Arthur asked, keeping the conversation flowing. He wasn't overly interested in the city, but Merlin had made it clear that the details of the prophecy weren't to be shared just yet.

"I spend a lot of time there," Merlin replied. "I like to move around, but London tends to be where I settle for the longest periods. The longest I've ever lived there is twenty years, but I got restless and visited France for a little while."

Having seen a map of modern Europe, Arthur knew where Merlin was talking about and merely nodded. "What's your favourite thing in London?" He asked.

"I like to people watch. Even as time goes on, civilization never truly changes. People, however, are fluid, and somehow I never grow bored in observing the advance of humanity. I can sit in Picadilly Circus for hours watching the flow of people. Sometimes I buy a ticket for the Underground and merely sit on a train as it goes back and forth all day, watching the commuters and the tourists." Merlin's voice trailed off as he thought about it.

"You've always been such an odd bird, Merlin," Arthur commented. "I can't imagine sitting still that long without going mad."

"I found lots of ways to prevent my mind from descending into anarchy, Arthur," Merlin replied with a frown. "That was a risk at times, but watching the crowds gives me a sense of peace. I like being aware."

Arthur shrugged and nodded. In some ways he understood Merlin better than anyone, and in others he didn't understand his best friend at all. That was the problem with having a sorcerer for a best friend. Some things he could understand perfectly, but others were a complete mystery.

"We can spend the rest of the day in town, if you want," Merlin offered. "We've already got a room, and waiting until tomorrow to head out won't hurt anything."

It was true, there wasn't really any sense of urgency to any of their actions. Whatever the dragon had told Merlin, it clearly hadn't been a set list of instructions and due dates for a set of tasks. The two men were on their own, set adrift in a time not their own. Arthur felt a little lost without any particular mission, but he trusted Merlin. If a leisurely journey towards London was what Merlin thought was best, that's what they would do.

"That's fine with me," Arthur finally replied. "I would like to read more."

Merlin chuckled and nodded. "Sure, we'll get some new books before we leave town." A thought occurred to him and he slowed down, glancing at Arthur appraisingly. "You know what else we ought to do?"

"What?" Arthur asked warily.

"Teach you to drive," Merlin suggested, as though it wasn't a suggestion out of the ordinary.

Arthur blanched. "Drive? As in the car?"

"Obviously," Merlin said with a laugh. "I'm not used to driving this much, and it's a skill you need to learn. Don't worry, if you do something to get us pulled over I can fix that problem with ease."

Vaguely familiar with the idea of traffic laws, Arthur was a little uncomfortable at the idea of Merlin enchanting them out of trouble with the law. "I'm not sure that's wise," was all he could manage in response.

"Relax, Arthur. If you can rule a kingdom, you can drive a car." Merlin moved forward and stepped clear of the treeline, looking pleased with himself for leading them back.

"I'm not sure those are two comparable skills," Arthur countered, tripping over a root as he followed Merlin out of the trees.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Arthur, it isn't difficult. I promise I won't let you hurt the car, yourself, or anyone else. It might come in handy to have a second driver, especially since we're technically on the run."

Arthur couldn't argue with that, and he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But if I crash that ridiculous machine -"

"You won't," Merlin said firmly. "Now quite protesting and let's go get something to eat."

As his stomach growled, Arthur found himself out of ammo for their argument and gave up. Perhaps driving wouldn't be as bad as he supposed. If he was going to get used to this new century, he would need to adapt.


	16. Chapter 16 - Merlin

**Chapter 16 - Merlin**

Once he had managed to convince Arthur of the benefits of learning to drive, Merlin then set about convincing him that spending the afternoon learning would be in their best interests.

"We'll spend most of tomorrow on the motorway anyway, which is easy driving, so if I give you some basics you can trade off with me for part of the drive," he explained. Driving was not a pastime Merlin particularly enjoyed, but it was useful and he found it necessary from time to time.

Arthur had been wary, but Merlin had managed to get him behind the wheel anyway. Thank goodness he'd had the foresight to purchase an automatic. It would make this process just a little bit easier on all involved.

"Merlin, I'm not sure about this..." Arthur began for the umpteenth time.

"Arthur, relax," Merlin said, exasperation starting to filter into his tone. "Contrary to popular opinion, you're not a complete dollop head, and you're perfectly capable of operating a vehicle. Start the bloody engine already."

Scowling at his best friend, Arthur turned the key in the ignition, wincing slightly as the engine came to life. "Now what?"

"The parking lot is mostly empty, so just move around in here until you get the hang of it. That's how I learned. Put the car in drive and press the gas." Merlin gestured to the various parts of the car as he spoke to make his meaning clear.

Reluctantly, Arthur shifted the car into drive, flinching slightly when the car began inching forward without any effort on his part. He eased his foot down on the gas pedal and the car shot forward.

"LIGHTLY!" Merlin yelled, panicked.

Instinctively, Arthur moved his foot to the brake, lurching the small car to a stop. "I told you I wasn't going to be good at this," he sniped at Merlin.

The warlock rolled his eyes. "Arthur, you made the car move, successfully stopped it, and haven't hit anything yet. As far as I'm concerned, this has been a victory. Try again."

Sighing in defeat, Arthur tried the gas again, having a better idea of what to expect. The car still shot forward, but with less intensity than before. Giving the steering wheel a test, Arthur was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to steer the car in the direction he wanted without much effort.

Merlin smiled with satisfaction. "See?" He said, his tone clearly indicating an oncoming 'I told you so.'

"Just because I haven't hit anything yet doesn't mean I won't," Arthur warned him.

As if on cue, a bird landed in the path Arthur was currently taking, causing the former king to curse and swerve to the left.

Lurching forward, Merlin corrected the path of the car with his hand, glaring at Arthur as he did so. "It's a bird, Arthur, not a grenade. It will move out of your way."

Seemingly obeying Merlin's words, the bird did indeed fly out of the path, leaving Arthur feeling sheepish in the idling car. "It startled me," he used as an excuse.

"Maybe putting you in traffic is a bad idea," Merlin muttered. If a bird could cause Arthur Pendragon such panic when he had his hands on a steering wheel, Merlin didn't want to imagine how he'd react the first time he got cut off in traffic. Even worse if it was by a lorry.

"I told you so," Arthur said with a grin, reveling in being the one who had gotten to say it.

Merlin threw him a disparaging look. "Very mature, Arthur," he bristled.

"Hey, I'm not the adult here anymore, remember?" Arthur teased. "It's your job to be mature."

Considering that, Merlin reluctantly chuckled. "Fair enough. I'm not letting you out of driving practice though. We're going to do this until you can make it from one end of the carpark to the other without any incidents."

As it turned out, that took less time than Merlin had imagined. Once he got the hang of it, Arthur was surprisingly good at driving. Merlin had taken two days to master control of a vehicle enough that he felt comfortable on the road, and Arthur showed signs of being able to mimic that accomplishment. At the end of the day though, Merlin decided it probably wasn't wise to stick him on the highway just yet.

"I really don't mind driving as much as I thought I would," Arthur admitted. "Are you sure you don't want me to help drive tomorrow?" The two men had re-parked the car and gone back inside the hotel.

"Not yet," Merlin repeated. "King or not, you're a little too valuable to toss into rush hour traffic on the highway after only a few hours of driving practice. We'll keep working on it, and in the meantime I'll be fine to do the driving."

"I'm alright with that," Arthur said calmly, walking into the room and promptly picking up his book.

"England is going to run out of novels for you at this point," Merlin warned him, chuckling at the eagerness with which Arthur was devouring literature. He wasn't even doing it systematically. A few days ago it had been epic romances, but today he was engrossed in a copy of _The Silver Chair_. Merlin had had to take on the unhappy task of explaining to Arthur that Narnia was not a real place after he had finished the first book in the series.

The disappointment didn't seem to have abated his enjoyment, however, and Arthur was nearly done with the series already.

"I like reading," was Arthur's only comment.

Merlin vaguely remembered a year or two he had spent in rural Wales. All he had had with him were the bare essentials and a gigantic stack of books. He had lived out there until he finished reading his stack, then donated all the books to a village library and moved on. He could appreciate Arthur's desire to read.

"Reading is good," Merlin agreed. He hadn't picked up a novel in a few years, but lately he had begun to read Arthur's finished books before giving them to new charity shops or libraries. Some of them he had read before, but some were newer. A mystery novelist from the 1920's was his current favourite, though Arthur had deemed her books too bizarre for his tastes.

The two men sat in silence for almost two hours before putting down their respective books, deciding on sleep at last.

"Good night, Merlin," Arthur said with a yawn.

"Good night, Arthur," Merlin replied, turning out the light. Tomorrow they would be back on the road, but he was cautiously optimistic about this trip to London. If there was anywhere in England that the rest of Arthur's puzzle pieces could be found, he would expect at least some of them to be there. The challenge was going to be finding them.


	17. Chapter 17 - Arthur

**Chapter 17 - Arthur**

The first day of the drive to London was largely uneventful. Arthur read through two more novels, and he discovered that if he read aloud something that interested him, it would often spark interesting conversation with Merlin that would result in Arthur learning something and Merlin keeping alert while he drove.

They were stopping in a small village off the highway for the night, and Merlin had informed Arthur that would hopefully be able to reach London by the following evening. In the meantime, they would get some food from the pub and get some sleep at the inn.

Arthur hadn't actually been in a modern day pub yet, but it wasn't all that different from his own familiar tavern. Sure, the decor was different, and there was modern stuff he didn't really recognize everywhere, but still, a tavern was a tavern. It was a place where you could get beer and laugh with friends. That was the same in any century.

Merlin ordered the beer, assuring Arthur that it was better to let the one who knew what the various beers actually were do the ordering. Once Arthur had tasted his drink, he nearly choked and nodded his agreement.

"Blimey, Merlin, what's in this? It's..." Arthur wasn't sure how to describe the drink.

"Think about it, Arthur," Merlin urged. "It tastes good, right?"

It took him a second, but Arthur finally nodded, glaring at the drink like that was a bad thing.

Merlin laughed. "You're used to the swill at the tavern. That stuff might as well have been straight alcohol. This is less likely to kill you before the age of forty, and it tastes better."

Arthur still seemed skeptical, but he finished his beer regardless. "I do feel reasonably functional in spite of the drink," he agreed. "Perhaps this century is wiser with its alcohol?"

Before Merlin could reply, a fight had broken out in the corner and a beer jug landed just shy of Merlin's head. "That answer your question?" He asked, amused.

"Should we stop them?" Arthur asked, distracted by the fight.

"Nah, they'll work it out. Drunk men are idiots." Merlin smirked and turned his attention to the football match on the corner television.

"You still haven't explained that to me yet," Arthur reminded him when he saw what had captured Merlin's attention.

Merlin considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "No, not yet. You'll be too interested and we'll never get anything done."

Arthur didn't get a chance to protest that assumption before his attention was completely diverted.

There was a new customer at the bar, ordering beer. As he reached out to grip his glass, his powerful arm muscles twitched slightly in response to the motion. He was wearing a tank top and jeans with work boots, and his massive arms were probably powerful enough to crush Arthur's head.

"Oh my..." Arthur trailed off, not sure if he was imagining it.

Then the man turned around and looked Arthur square in the face.

"Merlin," Arthur hissed urgently.

"What?" Merlin protested, snapping his head back to glare at Arthur.

"Look!" Arthur very purposefully moved his eyes to the man, who had stared at him and looked away, his eyes devoid of recognition.

Merlin, on the other hand, nearly lost his eyes they were so close to popping out of his head. After glancing at Arthur to make sure he wasn't losing his mind, Merlin stood up. "I know what to do," he said calmly, although he wasn't sure if that was for Arthur or himself.

As Arthur watched, Merlin strode forward confidently, muttering a spell under his breath and smiled up at the man at the bar, setting his hand lightly on the man's large left shoulder. "Hey, there, Percival! It's been ages!"

There was a pause, then a hint of magic passed over the man's eyes and he turned to look at Merlin as though seeing him for the first time. Setting the drink down heavily, he gripped the edge of the counter and stared at the sorcerer, his eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. "Merlin?" He managed to ask.

"Arthur, get over here!" Merlin half-shouted at his best friend.

Arthur hurried over, his mind still in a haze. Percival was here? His old friend, his knight, was here? He hurried placed a supportive hand on Percival's arm, keeping him from keeling over. "You alright there, big guy?" He asked jokingly.

"I am so confused," Percival managed to say.

"Right, time to go," Merlin said, making an effort to drag the two men behind him out of the pub. "We can have this discussion in our room at the inn, not in a crowded pub. Percival, I'm sorry, I know this is confusing, but I'll try and clear it up for you. Just, come with me."

Arthur supported most of Percival's weight, despite the fact that the man was clearly awake and capable of walking. As soon as they reached the room Merlin had rented, Arthur shoved Percival onto one of the beds and collapsed against the wall, breathing hard. "You are ridiculously heavy, my friend," Arthur said with a gasp.

"What happened?" Percival asked flatly, his expression still dazed.

Merlin was giving him the once-over, seeming fascinated. "As far as I can tell, you were born normally into this century and grew into your prime age. Contact with my magic woke your latent memories, and hopefully everything else about you. What do you remember?"

"Everything," Percival said cryptically.

"I need more detail than that, Percival," Merlin said with a sigh.

Percival glanced towards Arthur, seeming to register his presence for the first time. "You died," he said bluntly.

"So did you, from what Merlin here tells me," Arthur replied casually. "I had a prophecy on my side, though I've no idea what's got you up and walking around again."

"I do," Merlin admitted. "Until I'm one hundred percent certain about how Percival got here though, I'll be keeping it to myself."

Percival refocused on Merlin. "You...you're a sorcerer. I remember that now. You never came forward, but you were the queen's adviser."

"Indeed, Percival. Now, since your memories of life in Camelot seem fine, what do you remember of your time in this century?" Merlin took a seat beside the bed, his eyes blazing with curiosity.

"Well, I've got a life. I guess. No real connections to people, but a life of knowledge." Percival looked confused by that.

Arthur smiled as an excited look came across Merlin's face. That always meant that there was a good plan coming up.

"I think I know what happened," Merlin explained. "You were brought back without your memories at first so that when you came into contact with us, you would have a lifetime of knowledge of this century. You don't have to deal with learning how to work a telephone and all that like Arthur, because you've grown up with this century. That's genius, that is." Turning to Arthur with a grin, Merlin added, "This is good. Really good."

Arthur wasn't sure he wanted to ask the obvious question, but he had to. "Does that mean the rest of them are coming back?" He asked tentatively. He couldn't say the name of the one he wanted back most of all.

Merlin's face softened immediately in response and he nodded. "I think so, Arthur. I really do. They're all returning."

Even as hope filled him, Arthur realized the double meaning in that sentence. Could he not be reunited with his loved ones without being reunited with his enemies as well?


	18. Chapter 18 - Merlin

**Chapter 18 - Merlin**

Driving to London the following day was a really weird experience for Merlin. He had assumed without question that Arthur needed to learn about his new century before being able to really function in it, which had proved true. Arthur may have adapted quickly, but he still had to adapt. Percival, on the other hand, had grown up with a basic twenty-first century life, and had no trouble understanding anything, other than why he had essentially been reborn in the first place.

Merlin had decided not to explain the prophecy Kilgarrah had given him just yet. Arthur had a good idea of what it entailed, based on Percival's presence, but Merlin was keeping the actual prophecy to himself. Rather than engage in conversation, he had contented himself to merely drive and listen to Arthur quizzing Percival about the years following the king's death. Percival, as a knight, had a very different perspective on Camelot from Merlin, and he had never actually left Camelot, unlike Merlin, who rarely stayed in the city for more than a few months at a time.

It was amusing for Merlin to watch Percival struggle to answer all of Arthur's question. The gigantic man rarely spoke at all, so the volume of words he was being forced to produce was out of character. He spoke about events, people, laws, and even storms in his attempt to satiate his king's desire for knowledge.

It was several hours into the drive before Percival managed to turn the conversation back on Arthur, asking how Arthur had managed to pop up in the year 2014, given that he wasn't reborn.

Merlin listened to Arthur's explanation with interest, wondering what it had felt like from the former king's perspective. Arthur's descriptions lulled Merlin into a state of intense contemplation, wondering about the years Arthur had been suspended beneath the water.

"What about you, Merlin?" Percival's voice broke through Merlin's concentration.

"Sorry, what?" Merlin asked, shifting his eyes to the rear view mirror so the knight could see he was paying attention this time.

"How'd you come to be here?" Percival clarified.

"I never died," Merlin said simply.

Percival looked at him skeptically, then shifted his gaze to Arthur, who nodded. "Woah," was all he said.

"An eternal existence is not even half as impressive as it might sound, Percival," Merlin said calmly. "Were it not for hope, I would have died of pain long ago."

"So many years on your own," Percival mused aloud, his expression full of wonder and concern.

Merlin spared a glance towards Arthur, who looked upset by this topic of conversation. "As I said, hope is a powerful motivator. As you can see," he gestured towards Arthur, "in the end, my hope was not in vain."

Percival looked contemplative at Merlin's words. "Am I the first to return after Arthur?" He asked.

"Do you see anybody else in the car?" Arthur said sarcastically.

"Well, of course, but I thought maybe you had seen signs of the others. Surely they are all walking on earth as we speak, somewhere." Percival seemed to be considering his own words as he spoke.

"That's part of the reason I want to be in London," Merlin admitted, causing his companions eyes to return to him. "I expect to find others in the city. My perception of the prophecy leads me to believe that Arthur needs to be in London, and I am sure some of the others will crop up there as well."

"Why do I need to be in London?" Arthur asked.

Merlin sighed and said tentatively, "This prophecy is much more involved than the previous one. In the last, I only had one thing to think about - your return. Now, I have an entire future to consider and pieces of a puzzle to locate. This is going to be difficult, and I am unsure how to go about it."

"Let us help," Arthur urged, placing a comforting hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"I appreciate the thought, Arthur, but this is a very conflicted prophecy. It is both hopeful and terrifying at the same time. It would be best, perhaps, if I merely revealed pertinent information as it becomes necessary. I do not wish to cause you undue distress or unwarranted hope." Merlin gave his best friend a small apologetic smile.

"I understand," Arthur said, nodding. "I do not necessarily think you are entirely right, but I understand. Know that you can confide in us both," he indicated Percival in a gesture, "if you need to."

Percival nodded solemnly in agreement.

"I do know that," Merlin acknowledged, smiling more naturally now. "And I have to say, you have no idea how good it is to be among true friends once more."

With that, the three men found themselves engaging in retelling memories from their days together, reminiscing for the entirety of the drive towards London, the city where Merlin hoped to one day see Arthur on a throne.


	19. Chapter 19 - Arthur

**Chapter 19 - Arthur**

Arthur was having a day of new experiences. Firstly, Merlin had insisted that they park the car outside of London and take the Tube into the city. He explained exactly why he didn't want to drive in the city, but Arthur didn't understand until they actually got into London.

London was crowded. Really crowded. Not even Camelot during a joust had been able to boast this many people. No matter where Arthur turned he could not escape the crowds. As a result, he stuck to Merlin's side like glue, unwilling to lose his best friend in the throngs of people.

The Tube was an odd experience, since Arthur hadn't yet been on any kind of train, but he found that he sort of liked it. Despite the immense number of people, as long as he was able to get a seat he could watch the crowds largely undisturbed, and people watching was an interesting pass time. Merlin was also able to provide him with a running commentary on some of the things he saw, which broadened his understanding as well.

London itself was an impressive city. Arthur kept Merlin's attention busy with all his questions about the buildings, and Merlin had eventually given up and bought them all fare on a tour bus so that Arthur could learn about London's landmarks in one go. Between Parliament, Westminster Cathedral, Tower Bridge, the Tower of London, the Shard, the Gherkin, and St. Paul's, Arthur found his mind completely diverted by the landmarks of England's capitol. More than once he caught Merlin looked at him with an amused expression, but Arthur just ignored him. He couldn't help but find the city fascinating, and he wasn't the only one enjoying the tour. Percival had never been to London either, so the landmarks were just as new to him as they were to Arthur, even if Percival already knew what they all were.

Eventually the tour ended, and Merlin managed to convince them that they really ought to find a place to stay. Arthur was content to walk around London, but eventually he agreed that finding a place to sleep was probably wise. Percival and Merlin worked together to locate the hotel, and Arthur merely tagged along, not really able to be much help. Once they were in the room, it became clear that they really didn't have a plan past 'get to London.'

"Where should we look for the others?" Arthur asked, his focus mainly on locating everyone else important to him, now that he realized they had to be around somewhere.

"We ran into Percival by chance more than anything else," Merlin reminded him. "My hope is that the same will prove true for anyone else we need to find."

"Mind if I turn on the telly?" Percival asked, indicating the older screen between the beds. Merlin shook his head, so Percival switched on the news.

Arthur turned his attention to the screen, not really caring, but feeling he ought to be informed regardless. The current story was about a significant businessman of some sort who had recently returned to London from overseas.

Percival went to change the channel when a cry from Arthur stopped him. "What?" He demanded.

"Watch! In the background, behind the man they're talking about, look!" Arthur pointed at the screen, determined to prove he hadn't been seeing anything.

Merlin saw him first. "Oh my..."

"Is that...?" Percival asked, catching sight of the man in the background for the first time.

"It is," Arthur said firmly. "And even better, he's just arrived in London."

Merlin immediately pulled out his laptop and connected it to the hotel Wi-Fi, his fingers flying across the keys. "We're going to have to be fast. If he's part of that businessman's entourage, he probably won't be in town long. Hopefully we can find a way to get close to him."

"The news is saying that he's in town to sign a deal," Arthur reported, his eyes glued to the screen. "See if you can find out where they're all staying."

"I'm on it," Merlin replied, his eyes not moving from his laptop. "Looks like this guy and his associates all stay downtown whenever they're here. Our best bet is to probably go watch the hotel and just make a move when we see him."

"Shouldn't we have more of a plan than that?" Arthur asked skeptically. "If he's important to the businessman, won't that make him harder to reach?"

Percival looked up. "He's right, Merlin. We can't just kidnap him."

Merlin shifted his eyes just enough to give them both disparaging looks. "I'm hardly going to kidnap him. If worse comes to worst, I can always make the rest of the company forget that they need him, but I'm hoping he can sever ties and come with us without my needing to interfere. All I need to do is get close enough to bring him back to himself."

Arthur remembered the way Merlin had sort of flipped the switch on Percival to bring back his true memories, and realized that it was true. They really didn't need that much contact or proximity to make him remember who he really was.

"Alright then," Arthur finally said. "Let's go rescue Sir Gwaine."


	20. Chapter 20 - Merlin

**Chapter 20 - Merlin**

The businessman to whose entourage Gwaine belonged was named Timothy Cavenaugh, and Merlin didn't know very much about him. Aside from following major world events, he didn't tend to stay consistently updated, so famous names and faces rarely seeped into his consciousness. Cavenaugh had pull with the government and was in control of many important contracts, but that was the extent of Merlin's knowledge.

Flying blind wasn't exactly recommended for a covert operation, and Merlin deferred to Arthur's experience with stealth, only offering his own assistance when Arthur didn't know something useful about modern culture. Their different skill sets complimented each other well, especially now that Merlin's magic was no longer a secret to his friends.

"All we really need to do is get close to him," Merlin repeated. "A complicated plan is not necessary."

"Won't this Cavenaugh man have a lot of security around him?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged. "Probably, but we aren't going for Cavenaugh. If we're lucky, we can find Gwaine in his room and never even bother with the rest of the group."

"So all we really need is a convincing way to enter the hotel and discern Gwaine's room number," Arthur surmised.

"Exactly," Merlin confirmed. "It wouldn't hurt to know what name he thinks he's called as well."

"I'll look that up," Percival offered, holding out his hand for Merlin's laptop.

The warlock passed it over and redirected his attention to Arthur. "I'll call the hotel and ask for Gwaine's room number. If they won't divulge it, which is likely, then we'll have to watch the hotel until we can identify that for ourselves."

"He's called Richard Thurston," Percival announced, swiveling the screen around to show them a picture. "This says that he's the assistant to Cavenaugh's accountant."

Merlin's lips twitched in amusement. "I wouldn't have thought Gwaine would find himself in a job like that, but I suppose this is a different life." At Arthur's mildly confused expression he explained what an accountant was in this day and age.

"That hardly seems like Gwaine's type of work," Arthur agreed. "Let's rescue him from a life of sums, shall we?"

Merlin reached for the phone, indicating to Percival to pull up the hotel's phone number. Once it was onscreen, he dialed the number and waited.

"Luxury Business Hotel and Suites, how may I assist you?" The answering voice was warm and female, and she spoke with a careful precision.

"Hello, ma'am, I was wondering if you could please tell me which room Richard Thurston is in?" Merlin asked, making himself sound as young and innocent as possible. If he didn't sound threatening, there was a chance he could get what he wanted.

"Unfortunately I'm not at liberty to disclose guest information," the woman told him, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I can connect you with his room if you would like to speak to him though."

Hesitating for a moment, Merlin finally said, "Yes, that would be great."

"Alright, sir, one moment."

Hold music began playing, and Merlin gnawed on his lip nervously. It wasn't like he could return Gwaine to his rightful self over the phone, so what good would talking to him do?

"Hiya, Thurston speaking. Who's this?"

The rush from hearing Gwaine's voice after so many years hit Merlin harder than expected, and it took him a moment to be capable of replying. Gwaine died at the same time as Arthur, and the double blow had been practically unbearable at the time. "Um...my name Is Emry Smith, I'm a representative of the Daily Mail? I was calling to ask if I could get an interview with you, as one of Timothy Cavenaugh's right hand men." He intentionally over stated things, trying to make Gwaine sound more important than Merlin knew he was.

"Oh, well, yes, I suppose that would be alright. I have appointments tomorrow with Mr. Cavenaugh, but perhaps in the morning, around half eight?" Gwaine sounded flustered and a little bit cocky.

Merlin grinned. "That would be wonderful, Mr. Thurston. I'll meet you in the lobby, shall I?"

"That would be perfect, Mr. Smith. How shall I find you?"

"I'll be wearing a red scarf," Merlin promised, thinking of his neckerchiefs in his bag. Perhaps a comforting memory in Merlin's appearance would help Gwaine ease into this odd situation.

"I look forward to it," Gwaine said before hanging up.

Merlin set the phone aside and grinned. "Tomorrow morning, my friends. Tomorrow morning we gain another member of our family back."


End file.
